Twisted by Rebecca Zanetti

demon brain ability, even under extreme duress. The tests are wrong.”
    “You have my word,” Gerald said.
    Terrent nodded. “I’m borrowing a pack rig to take Maggie to safety, and then I’ll return for the three wolves. Your soldiers need help.”
    “Yes, they do. Threats are aimed at us from all sides.”
    Gerald’s hands shook.
    “You still being threatened by the Ausgel pack?” Terrent asked.
    “Yes. Until our soldiers return, we’re vulnerable to attack,” Gerald said.
    Maggie frowned. “Who?”
    “A feral wolf pack that doesn’t belong to the Realm.
    They’ve wanted our mountain for centuries.” Gerald stretched his neck. “But they’re not your concern. I’ll step up training tomorrow just in case.”
    Terrent frowned. “We’ll talk later. Let’s go, Mags.”
    She followed him through the lodge and out to an old but sturdy Ford truck. “I can fight, you know,” she muttered.
    He pivoted so quickly she almost fell on her butt. “Ten years of training doesn’t make a fighter. Especially when someone still suffers from PTSD.”
    That was a nice way to say she had terrible panic attacks.
    “I find I don’t like you very much right now.”
    He grinned, flashing sharp canines while opening the passenger-side door. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that from you.”
    Damn. Would her memories ever return?
    She jumped inside, glaring out the window at the peaceful forest as he stepped into the truck and started the igni-tion. Quick movements had the vehicle maneuvered down a dirt road, heading south toward town. She bounced around in the cab, clutching the dash, growling at the terrible potholes.
    They made it halfway down the mountain before she turned to look at him. They needed to find common ground.
    Arguing with the stubborn wolf gave her a headache. “So you fought with my grandfather in the war?”
    Terrent started. “Ah, no. I was just a kid when I met him.”
    Instinct whispered if she waited a second, the wolf would talk. Maybe her memories were returning. So she studied his strong profile. Or was it just hard?
    Terrent sighed. “Three hundred years ago I lived in a small village in Scotland. The first war between the vampires and the Kurjans exploded, and any allies of either were taken down. My people were wiped out. Completely.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Maggie whispered.
    He lifted a shoulder. “I was only two years old and barely remember. Somebody hid me, and three days after the mas-sacre, your grandpa found me.”
    Maggie blinked. “My people raised you?”
    Terrent coughed out a laugh. “No. Your people don’t mix well with other wolves because of their weird ability. Your grandpa brought me to Gerald, and I was raised with his pack until I was eight.”
    “What then?” Had the poor guy found a home?
    “I had skills—fighting skills that were beyond the norm.
    Plus, I came from an Alpha bloodline but lacked a pack. So I trained to sit on the Bane’s Council. All over the world, I trained with the best shifters, vampires, even a couple of demons in order to fight.” He checked the rearview mirror.
    “Since the age of eight, I was trained to kill.”
    The matter-of-fact tone chilled her more than the actual words. “Sounds lonely.”
    “It was.” His dark eyes warmed as he glanced her way.
    “Then I found you, and I wasn’t lonely any longer.”
    Her heart thumped. Hard. “I wish I remembered us.”
    “I wish you did, too.” His hands tightened on the wheel.
    “You need to believe that even though we argued, and you took off for a bit, we didn’t break up. You just needed to cool off.”
    Relying on somebody else to fill in her past flared her instincts into awareness. “I don’t know many wolves, but it seems we’re ruled by emotion. If we really wanted to mate, why didn’t we?”
    His upper lip quirked.
    Cute. Way too cute.
    “You wanted to get married first,” he said, shaking his head. “Totally unorthodox, kind of silly, but you’re a